


Dispossessed

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Anniversary, Coulson likes Skye to be in charge, Coulson loves the sound of Skye's voice, F/M, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Making Out, Presents, Sexual Humor, Skye is worried about her powers, Skye lending Coulson books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:45:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skoulson feels and fuckyeahskoulson's 1st Anniversary fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dispossessed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts), [hamsterfactor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamsterfactor/gifts).



She was sitting crosslegged on the bed, combing through her Riding Tide feeds, checking for anything new that had come across in the last ten hours.

It had been a long day, and this was home for the moment. Or at least, the place she rested her head at night.

The containment room had been her suggestion, after all, once she'd had a glimmer of what she was dealing with. Sleeping in her old room, without monitors and a failsafe just seemed like a really, _really_ bad idea.

Wouldn't want to bring the whole base down on their heads.

The dreams had troubled her.

Not just this last one, where she awoke, alone and terrified after the temple in San Juan. Everything inside the place white, like it was a clean room. The kind of place where you monitored something dangerous carefully, so that wouldn't spill outside and wipe out a whole city. And as her control slipped away, cracks began to appear in the floor. But she knew it was inside of her, too.

Everything was going to fall apart. What she had been building. What she had found here. The thought that it was all because of her.

No, as bad as that was, the real reason was, the last time she'd had a dream so horribly vivid, something big _had_ happened.

Her father. Ward. Coulson nearly beaten to death. Trip had died. And now, she was this.

A weapon.

Sighing, she looked at the pile of old SSR files on the side table, dreading the idea of combing things analog-style. Her Rising Tide contacts were turning up nothing. Just like they had come up empty handed with the symbols Coulson had carved and the Obelisk.

She hated the idea of being superstitious. All she needed was the right information, and her stupid subconscious was either trying to tell her something, or smother her with her own fears.

Surely, this wasn't the first person like her they'd encountered in all of human history? No way. HYDRA had come across her parents before. There had to be others like them. The village her mother was from.

Everything she'd encountered so far was another dead end. She'd been doing this sort of thing most of her life, but she was getting tired of not having answers. Really, _really_ tired.

Standing up off the bed, she shut her laptop and huffed, flipping open a file on the side table, readying to dive into it.

Motion in the background caught her eye and she looked up to see Coulson standing outside the room.

She smiled a little, looking curiously at the bottle and a pair of glasses held in his hand, the other hidden behind his back. It was the end of the day, so he was a little less polished looking at this point.

It didn't matter. The expression on his face was so endearing.

"Mind the company?" he asked, shrugging a little, when she didn't answer right away.

"Oh," she started, looking for the tablet that controlled the room's defense capabilities. It was slightly buried under some of the SSR files, and she pushed them aside then pressed the button as the barrier between them fell.

He passed through into the room and she walked towards him, seeing now that the bottle was champagne.

"What's this about?" she asked, as he reached forward with one hand and twisted his fingers to let her take the glasses as he held the bottle.

"You _really_ don't know?" he asked.

"No, I _really don't know_ ," she repeated back to him.

"This is your first anniversary as an official Agent of SHIELD," he said, furrowing his brow like he was surprised she'd forgotten.

She grinned, thinking it over. Yes, it had totally escaped her.

He produced his other hand with a square blue box in it, wrapped with a ribbon.

"This is for you," he said, holding the box out towards her.

Placing the glasses on the table, she took it and held it in her hands, trying to remember the last time someone had given her a present. The last time Coulson had given her a box was _not_ a favorite memory.

Nothing really came to mind. Miles hadn't exactly gone in for celebrating things in conventional ways, and she was pretty sure that Miles couldn't tie a bow this perfectly, either.

"Thanks," she said. "This makes up for the nuns regifting their fruitcakes every Christmas."

When she began to pull on the bow, he reached forward, putting his fingers over hers. "Not just yet."

"Okay," she said, looking for a place to put it, finally deciding to set it on the bed.

Coulson went to work opening the bottle of champagne as the cork popped free and he walked to the glasses and poured it into each.

He handed one to her, then took his and set the bottle down.

"Thank you," he said, clinking his glass against hers.

She laughed at him a little. "For what?" she asked, taking a sip after he did.

"For sticking it out," he said, sighing. "Even after everything. This would all be so different, without you being a part of it."

"Yeah," she said, getting lost in her head for a moment. "I hope I never have to make you regret saying that," she said, looking away.

"Never," he answered back immediately.

Her eyes met his and she nodded her agreement, staring at him in silence for a moment.

"Although," she said, feeling the need to fill the void when it became slightly uncomfortable, "Loosening up gifteds with champagne probably shouldn't be one of our protocols."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, staring back at her, taking another sip.

"I like what you've done with the place," he continued, looking away as he started to walk around the small room.

She let out the breath she'd held, happy for the opportunity to regather her thoughts, but somehow feeling a bit of envy at the way he could always slip in and out of intense moments.

He peered over at the books on her small shelf and she considered that he'd never been in her quarters before. Even on the Bus, it had just been brief and he'd managed to keep a degree of professionalism.

This was weird, actually. It was so open and exposed. She found herself looking up the stairs towards the entrance to the vault.

"The Dispossessed," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "Never read it. Is it good?" he turned back to her.

"I like it," she said. "I got it at a used bookstore when I was twelve. She was liking the picture of him mixed in with her things. "You can borrow it."

"Didn't know you were into sci-fi," he chuckled.

" _I am sci-fi_ ," she said, walking next to him and pulling the book lose. "It's yours."

"Thanks," he said, taking it from her hand and then looking around to find a spot for it, finally setting it on the bed next to the box.

"You want to open this?"

"Sure."

She grasped her hands in front of her, hesitating, before reaching for it and then he interrupted again.

"It's something I've been wanting to share," he said, then he bit his lower lip, while he searched around for the tablet, before tipping his head back towards the stairs. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," she said, turning to look as the wall appeared, sealing them inside.

"Open it," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, putting the tablet back down.

Pulling at the bow, she unwrapped it then slowly lifted the lid to look inside.

It was a small black box.

"Cool," she said, taking it out, intrigued and puzzled at the same time. "Is this, like, a Rubik's Cube for aliens or something?" she asked, turning it over in her hands. "Do I have to work out how to open it?"

She started to turn the box between her fingers and he lept up off the bed and took her hands in his.

"No! _No_...," he said, handling the box gingerly.

"Coulson," she asked, looking up at him. "What is this?"

He set it down on the bed and then pressed the top of it, as the display appeared in front of them.

"Fury gave it to me," he said, as her eyes grew wide, analyzing it, taking everything in.

"Huh... _wow_...," she answered, poking a finger towards it delicately as the SHIELD logo bounced back at her.

"Like this," he said, standing behind her, and taking his hands and spreading out the network in front of them.

"I know how it works," she teased, laughing, taking in a breath and turning back to him.

"And now, it's yours."

She put a hand to her mouth, considering the gesture he was making here.

"I haven't been able to find answers," he went on, stumbling over his words a bit. "I thought that you might see something I didn't..."

Before he could continue, she threw her hands around him and hugged him tightly to her.

"Thank you," she said, whispering against his neck.

She felt his hands slowly circle around her back, and her breath caught.

He stopped moving, then swallowed, the tension in him brushing his skin against her lips.

The same intensity that was there before was hovering again between them. She delicately drew back from their embrace, holding onto his arms to support herself.

She dragged up eyes back up to his, and then she threw herself into his arms.

He staggered backwards, catching her by the hips as he held his ground, her mouth pressed against his for one startled moment, and then he tangled his hand into her hair, as her lips parted.

He pulled her in tighter against him.

"Don't you want to peek inside?" he asked, as they both tried to catch their breath.

"Yes, that's the idea," she said, working her fingers on his tie.

"I meant, the Black Box," he replied, with an amused expression.

" _Right_ ," she said, letting him go.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and then suddenly pulled her down into his lap as she gave a startled noise, then settled, feeling his hand lightly touching her knee.

She sighed deeply at the idea that she was supposed to work under these conditions, and moved her hands to push open a display of a file on the alien temple, as he watched her.

Her fingers went to work, looking through the information, as he shifted under her a little to bear her weight.

"Use voice commands," he said, brushing away the hair from her shoulder.

It sent a shiver through her.

Then his mouth replaced the ghosting touch of his hand. "Keep. Doing. That." she answered.

She could feel him smiling against her, then his teeth nibbled on her neck as she giggled.

"Search," he said, in a low voice, sounding very distracted. "Known gifteds."

A huge list came up in the display in front of her.

"Prior to 1985," he added casually, nuzzling against her ear, then groaning as she ran her hand along the outside of his thigh. She moved with him as he squirmed under her.

The list became shorter, more manageable, she half-noticed.

"Eliminate male records," she ordered, as he chuckled and put his hands around her waist. The Black Box obeyed her. "Asian decent only."

There was a list of six.

"Was this part of your celebration plan?" she asked, turning a little towards him, with a raised eyebrow.

"Not really," he said, searching over her face, meeting her gaze. "I mean, one always _hopes_..."

He moaned as she dove against him, kissing him again, her hands on his chest moving him back until he was halfway down against the bed.

"Too much?" she asked, planting her arms on either side of him, hovering above, as he laid back under her.

"Skye. Kiss me. _Please_."

He pulled her down on him and chased after her mouth, her fist bunching up his shirt as she yanked it free of his trousers.

Then his hands slid down her back, over her ass, and when she rocked her hips, he gripped her against him, his tongue pushing inside of her mouth.

"Are you sure we should do this?" she asked, pausing, gasping. "It could be dangerous."

"Are you worried you might...?" he asked, concerned, as his chest heaved, his hand on her breast.

"I'm not sure," she replied. "I haven't really done anything like this, since..."

"Me neither," he said, moving his hand to her face and then quickly kissing her, before he sat up.

"Sorry," she said, sitting on the bed. "This is awkward, right?"

She watched him sitting next to her, looking down at his hands, his eyebrows knotting together while he worked through it.

"I need you," he said, turning back to her. "That's what I've been wanting to tell you. And, I don't know if it has to be...this, but, the way I feel about you..." His hand reached for her face.

"It's never going to be safe, is it?" she said, taking his hand and pressing it against her cheek.

"I don't think so. We can take things slowly?" he asked. "If, that's what you want."

"I want this," she said, leaning forward to kiss him, softly now.

"You might not have noticed," he began, kissing her in deliberate staccato. "I don't have a lot of self-control when it comes to you."

"Oh, _I've noticed_ ," she smiled, biting her lower lip. "I think _everyone_ might have noticed," she added, thinking about the questions that had come up when he'd chased her into the temple.

"You lead," he said, shrugging, a smirk starting to form on his face. "I follow."

"And that's how you want it?" she asked, tilting her head.

"I want to see the world the way you do, Skye."

He put his lips on hers, pressing them to her slowly, moving into her as she kissed him back. She caught his lower lip, and his arms wrapped around her, hugging her to him, as she slid her tongue against his, then used her teeth, and he pulled her shirt free to slip his hands beneath it, pressing his fingers against her waist.

"Slowly?" she asked, as he leaned her back onto the bed.

"Yeah," he answered, shifting down to kiss her stomach. "We can take our time."

He looked up at her when his fingers touched the scars on her stomach, then she closed her eyes when he pressed his lips against them.

Her hand reached for his head, threading through his hair, and her eyes opened again when she felt him taking apart the button of her jeans, watching as he slid the zipper down, staring back at her, waiting.

She looked over at the Black Box sitting next to her on the bed, and pushed her finger on its top, shutting it down.

Then her eyes met his again.

" _Pants off_."

 


End file.
